HTS
by v.e.vogel
Summary: A rogue organization called HTS has been kidnapping innocent men and women across the land. Konoha and Suna have finally taken a stand. During the raid, one Konoha shinobi finds someone that the village had thought they lost sometime ago. Follow their journey together as they get to the bottom of her sudden disappearance and uncover something much larger than the two of them.
1. Chapter 1

The mission was coming to a close. Most of the leg work had been completed. The investigation was a success and now all they had to do was act. Just hours ago they were given the order to infiltrate and take down the organization they had spent months investigating. They call themselves HTS.

Said organization is a dealer of humans, located in the outskirts of Key Country. They would buy, sell and take what they wanted, who they wanted, when they wanted. No questions asked by the neighboring villages. For ten years young men and women from these small villages would be kidnapped from their homes or off of the street to become part of the trafficking industry. Not a soul dared report them. Eventually, HTS began branching out further and further from their home base. The men now in search of more exotic women and stronger, harder workers. The past three years they have been lifting people away from Fire Country, Wind Country, and even as far as Water Country. It took Konoha over a year and lots of back and forth from the affects countries to begin to connect the dots. At first it seemed as if there was no correlation. People go missing all the time. There are lots of reasons why someone could just up and leave.

But now here they were – a combination of Suna and Konoha Anbu, a team of eight – preparing to put an end to this problem. Weasel slid the last of his kunai into his holder, and looked out at the rest of his team. He and a Suna ninja, Rat, were leads in this take down and rescue mission. The plan was set in stone. They would leave their make shift barracks at 01:00. They would infiltrate, secure the innocents on hand, and then take down any hostiles. Three easy steps.

Weasel took a deep breathe, and eyed the ticking clock on the wall in the dark dank room. His nostrils filled with the scent of stale air. The second hand made its way around the circle, and as the clock struck one – he was gone.

Heavy breathing rhythmically sounded through the air. The guard had dozed off for the third time that night. He was slumped on top of a lopsided metal chair, death grip on a bottle of booze he had lifted from the party up above. "Another successful night," he had said to the men and women and the boys and girls that sat on the floor chained before him. Ten more had been added to their miserable group. His yellowed grin was the brightest thing they had seen in days. The basement was starting to get cramped, there is no doubt that they'll select from the group and remove some tomorrow – the unfortunate souls pushed to face a dark future.

It's a weekly repetition. Build up to 40, and then remove ten each day. Build back up, and then removal once more. It was a process that 'S' had seen happen over and over again. She was special though. They never brought her further than the building she was in now. S only knew what she observed. She didn't know where they were, why she was here, or what the people here were doing. All she knew was that she is S and that S is special.

She would be moved around monthly. They would pull her up and unlock the chains. She would be guided up the stairs and to a room so lavish that it made her stomach hurt. Sometimes she would put up a fight, sometimes she would try to scream, but time and time again her body would fail her, and no sound would come out. Women would meet her at that point, and bring her to the bathing room. They were always so gentle. They would whisper kind words as they scrubbed the built up grime off of her pale skin. One woman would sing to her, softly – her hands running through her hair with soap. After that she would be dried and dressed in a silk robe, her hair tied to the side in a loose braid.

Then she would wait. Sometimes for hours, once, for days. With only a glass of water by her side she would grow even weaker than how she was down below. She would wait for a certain man. He would enter and smile largely at her. His eyes as if they were filled with love. "S my love. I have missed you," he would murmur in her ear. Soon after his arrival a meal would come accompanied by wine. They would dine together, and he would share stories of his travels. The man would always eat steak, while S would receive a cup of soup and a plate fried vegetables. "Eat darling – you'll need your strength."

After dinner the activities varied. Sometimes he would touch her, and make her do things to his body. Some nights he would simply tell her to sleep. She never had a choice in the matter. In the morning, he would kiss her goodbye, and tell he would see her again soon. She would be left in the room for another day, and would then be stripped down and dressed in her old clothes, and escorted back downstairs with the rest of those whose lives were stolen by some run of the mill hoodlums.

It was a lonely life. She would be the only one to remain week after week. Occasionally those around her would talk to her. Ask her questions to see what she knew. As much as she wanted and as much as she tried she could not reply. Her voice seemingly lost with her memories of the past.

Laughter from the party above brought S out of her thoughts. She heard the door to the basement slam, and she looked up. A group of men stood before her. They looked on edge. Four men began looking through the frail captive bodies. One was grabbing the hair of women and pulling their heads up to see their faces. He would then through them back down. He shouted in frustration. "S," he called out loudly, "Stand the fuck up."

Obediently, S stood up as much as her chains would let her. On her knees was as much as she could manage. The man ran over to her and began to undo her chains. "We need to leave now." The man grabbed her hand and pulled her through the other people, shouts and cries rang in her ears as the man before her stepped on top of those who failed to move. The guard was awake now. His bottle had clanged to the floor and he demanded answers from the men who barged in. Clearly something was amiss.

The guard frowned as his mate quickly briefed him. Tonight had been such a great night. They finally secured this haul, and they could start moving product again in the morning. It was a shame that it had to be ruined by a single set off trap. For all they knew it could have been a raccoon or fox that knocked it over. But alas, protocol was protocol – and that was what kept them in business and making money.

He felt himself sobering up. One man would escort S out, and act as her guard. Boss would flip if she was injured or even worse, set free. Then three others would assist the on duty guard with maintaining the merchandise. The party upstairs would continue as to not cause suspicion, but everyone knew what was going on. This night could either continue to go very well for them, or be ruined by a raid that was bound to happen at some point.

Many have tried raids before, and many have failed. If a raid were to occur, and they successfully fought the fuckers off – that night would pack up the merchandise and move to their next base that was on hold. If the raid was successful, then who the fuck cared because they were be dead men by then. The guard eyed S and watched her ascend up the staircase to the upper level.

One man was stationed at each main wall. Every fifteen minutes a voice and noise would come through a handheld two-way radio that the original on duty guard carried. "All clear – over."

"All clear – over," he would mime back. The man chimed in once more over the device, and the guard replied dutifully. He set the handheld down next to him, and surveyed the room once more. Something had changed from what he saw just moments earlier. One man was not at his post. "Hey, Wall B – where'd the fuck you go," he joked out loud. After no response he moved to inspect where Wall B had been standing. Nearing his destination, something shiny on the other side of the room caught his eye. A flash almost, where wall man D was standing. Wall D was there no more. "What the – ," he started, but it was already too late. A kunai was lodge into his head through his eye socket and his body was swiftly transported away.

Tiger flickered in front of Weasel and dropped his most recent kill to the ground. "One more guarding the basement room," Tiger said. "11 minutes until the next check in." Tiger flickered away, and moments later he returned. "All clear," he sassed, imitating the simple reply Wall A had confidently said.

Weseal's co-captain nodded to one of the Suna anbu and then to a Konoha anbu and they flickered away. Moments after Tiger, Bear, and Lizard flickered away as well – to secure the hostages and provide basic medical attention. They all know their duties, and have committed the plan to memory. Bird appeared before Weasel and Rat, and motioned that everything is right on track – before departing once more.

The leader of the HTS had already returned and was locked away in his room just as anticipated. He was known as Ninjin, famous for his bright orange hair and slick personality. Weasel nodded at Rat and they both went on their way. Rat was to take down the inner circle. Those who were the 'right hand man' and 'number twos' of the organization, while Weasel was to take down the mastermind.

Weasel raced down the halls, remembering the blueprints of the building that they had studied. He had to know every nook and cranny. For an organization of this nature, he sure as hell was going to be thorough. He neared the entrance to Ninjin's room and stilled when he heard a voice talking to someone.

"Don't worry S, it's just protocol. There's nothing the boys can't handle," a man soothed. There was no reply, just unsteady breathing. The intel did not let them know that someone would be with the leader in case of raid, besides the guard standing in front. Apparently Ninjin was confident enough in his abilities to believe he could protect himself. He much preferred that the merchandise be protected first – at all costs. _How admirable._

Weasel aimed a kunai at the neck of the guard standing by the door. The metal sliced through the first half of his neck, and lodge into the second half. Weasel caught as he fell.

With a single hand sign he took the form of the man in his arms. He placed his body down carefully around the corner of the hallway. Walking back to the door, Weasel paused to listen once more.

The air had changed slightly, "Stay in place. Do not spread your filth," the man inside shouted at his company. Weasel knocked on the calmly, the same knock that he had learned from certain sources that had been…disposed of.

"Enter."

He pushed the door open and met the eyes of the man before him. Ninjin was short and fat. He looked to be around 50 years old. His muscles from when he started in this trade have since degraded. His orange hair, now dull in color, was combed back with gel, strands were clumped together in thick pieces. He wore a full suit – vest, dress shirt, jacket and slacks. His shoes were polished without a spot on them.

In stark contrast on the floor near where he was standing was a young girl. Her legs were sprawled out underneath her, and she was hunched over – her arms supporting most of her weight. Her skin was pale, as if it hadn't seen the sun in months. She had large round brown eyes, and hair of the same color.

"Oh J – give me an update," the short man said facing Weasel.

"No changes as of yet," Weasel dutifully replied.

Ninjin smiled, "Good." He clapped his hands together and then gestured to the woman on the ground, "Could you please, she stinks, take her to the baths and clean her up."

Weasel nodded and moved to walk S to the large bathroom located in the back of the room. Ninjin walked over to his sitting area and made himself comfortable while he waited. His love would soon be clean again, and they would spend yet another romantic night together.

The door clicked behind Weasel, and he quickly checked the girl for any injuries or signs of abuse. Her mouth was in a tight line. She didn't know what was going to happen, but her gut wanted her to run. Weasel grabbed her face and looked at her intently. Panicked – S pushed him away with all her might. Taken off guard Weasel flew across the room. _'Such strength,_ ' he thought.

He didn't have time for her to make things difficult. S watched in horror as his eyes changed color from brown, to black and then finally to bright red. Her body slumped to the ground.

Deciding he had enough, Weasel dropped the henge all together, and made his way back to the bedroom. He turned the knob and opened the door. Ninjin now had his back to him, and was messing with a puzzle cube in the chair.

"What? Not enough soap for all that dirt," the man joked, and turned around to face him. His eyes grew wide as he realized just who he was talking to. Weasel did not reply. He moved quickly. Reaching for his anbu grade katana. With one fluid motion, he drove it into his heart. Weasel then swung his arm down slashing through the now corpse of the lawless man before him. Blood splattered on the walls and leaked out onto the floor. His clothing and masked were now sprayed with red as well.

His earpiece quietly beeped. Weasel flipped the switch on. "Weasel, are you listening," the voice asked.

"Hai," Weasel replied. "Status update," he demanded.

"Hostages are still secure. They are cooperating fully."

"Dog- report."

"Crane, Cat and I were successful. All lower members of HTS have been eliminated or apprehended," Dog responded.

"Rat?"

"Five of the upper leadership have been eliminated. Two apprehended. All upper leadership accounted for. Weasel?"

"The leader has been eliminated. Secure the men you apprehended and your areas. We will meet in the basement in five minutes."

A unison 'hai,' and the members clicked off their receivers.

The soft click of the bathroom door caught his attention. The gentle steps of the young woman cautiously made their way into the bedroom. She gasped at the now blood covered room and froze in fear.

"Do not be afraid," he started, "We are from local villages. The men hear were doing something very bad, and we could not allow it to continue."

S tried to scream but still nothing came out. She turned and ran into the bathroom, but the masked man unfortunately followed.

Weasel activated his bloodline limit. Something ever so slight was off about this girl. She was cornered in the bathroom now, with nowhere else to run. Panic began to set in for the girl once more. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

 _'Genjustu,'_ Weasel thought to himself. He released what was cast, and before his eyes, brown faded away. Her hair turned a light bubblegum pink and her eyes a bright viridian. Her face although slightly more rounded than before, was still lean from malnutrition.

Before him stood Haruno Sakura, who had been missing in action for 17 months.

She showed signs of no recognition of the anbu uniform.

"Please – come with me. I will not harm you."

She made no move and Weasels eyes flooded with red.

"You are safe now."

The words repeated in her head.

 _You are safe now. You are safe now. You are safe now._

Haruno Sakura's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her body collapsed on to the cold tile floor.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N A special thanks to Esther-himechan for leaving a review. I also wanted to thank everyone who favorited and followed this story. It means a lot. :')_

Sakura Haruno

Age: 17

Birthday: 03/28

Class: Medical Ninja

Rank: Chunin

Status: Missing – in – Action. Presumed dead.

The day Sakura disappeared was a difficult day for the leadership of Konoha. Their beloved, hot headed fire-cracker had vanished while on a goodwill mission, without a single clue left behind. Search party after search party was sent out to find the powerful young girl, but all leads turned dry.

The news was kept quiet. Only those that truly needed to know, knew what happened. For those who weren't privy to the classified information, were given no information at all on her whereabouts.

A ninja of her rank, caliber, and trust level with the current administration – just disappearing out of thin air was not something they wanted to be public knowledge. It would show weakness and vulnerability in the ranks of Konoha.

This was particularly painful for Sakura's parents. While the Haruno's were not civilians, the couple was not high rank enough to typically know the details of the disappearance. Due to their relationship though, an exception had to be made. While they personally knew that she was presumed dead, they unfortunately could not share the grief with any of their close friends.

Tsunade always kept hope though. That's why the call to officially name her KIA was never made. Her mind remained open. She felt it in her soul that Sakura was still out there, and that she would one day return. It made sense, there was no body found at the scene, and the blood on the walls was a mixture between hers, a team mates and two unknown people. The possibility that she was alive and well was definitely plausible, but slimmed with every passing day.

Her optimism was difficult to maintain. Since the day Sakura disappeared, they hadn't even heard a single rumor about a girl with pink hair, or a medic travelling the continent – not even a boast from any ninjas proclaiming to have taken her out. It was as if she was just wiped from the land she stood on.

The anbu waited for specialists from Konoha to arrive. They were experts in clean ups of this matter. They would also coordinate with the innocents while the Suna anbu escorted the arrestees to Suna for interrogation and holding.

In the meantime, the most pressing issue at hand was the mystery that laid on the ground soundly before the Konoha team. Weasel contacted the Hokage immediately after reconvening with his team. Shizune and a few other shinobi were en route.

Bird hovered over the girl, and checked her thoroughly for any wounds or sign of previous injury. "It looks like her ribs were broken at one point, and they healed slightly off. Her pupils are responding normally – other than some surface bruises though, she seems to be okay." Bird kept prodding as she continued her analysis, "Overall, she seems to be in the similar condition to the others. In comparison, her case of malnutrition is exaggerated. It's as if she had been there for months, or even years. The others that had been in there with her had only been there for a week at most."

Reports from the innocents said that she had been there when they arrived. She never spoke or cried like the others. She just remained in the same spot, until right before they had been freed. Apparently some guards had stormed in shouting for "S," until she stood. She was dragged out of the room.

A raven suddenly flew into view, and perched near Weasel. He approached it and removed a small note that was attached to its leg. The bird immediately returned to the air, and took off towards home. Weasel sliced his thumb and put a drop of blood on the note. With a poof it had been replaced with a manila folder – large red letters were stamped across it reading CLASSIFIED. The first page of the folder contained new mission orders addressed to Itachi Uchiha. A small handwritten note fell out of the side. Snatching it up, Itachi read over it quickly and tucked the folder and note away into his uniform.

The crew from Konoha arrived later that evening. After briefly talking with Suna's taichou, Weasel gathered the joint anbu team for a quick recap before dismissing them. "We thank all of you for you service," he began, "Clean up will be handled by Konoha. As agreed upon, Suna will carry out the first round of interrogations, and therefore be escorting the prisoners to their village. Konoha requests that you avoid any unnecessary death or brain damage. A Konoha interrogation expert is en route to Suna as we speak to assist your team. Your taichou will have further instructions concerning his arrival. Due to the nature of the organization we dealt with today, I am officially reiterating that everything about this mission is confidential." Weasel paused to look over her teammates. He focused on their eyes and searched for any waver in commitment. Satisfied with their responses, he continued, "You are dismissed. Please return to your respective villages." In an instant half of the team was gone.

Before Weasel, stood 3 Konoha anbu, waiting for further explanation and instruction. "I will not be returning with you. Any reporting can be done in my absence. Please return to the village safely." Two more anbu left, and the only ones remaining were Bird and Weasel.

"Weasel taichou, what will happen to the girl that we found? Isn't she…," Bird trailed off looking down at the ground. She looked back up to meet Weasel's eyes through the mask.

"She is currently being handled," he said sternly. Seeing Bird's concern though, he nodded reassuringly, "Do not worry." Weasel was not typically one to give comforting words as such, but he felt that due to the circumstances - it was necessary. It's not every day you find a girl, that was held hostage by human traffickers, who has an uncanny resemblance to a long lost colleague. Bird nodded and jumped off into the direction that her other teammates had traveled in.

With the mission concluded. Weasel internally signed, and mentally readied himself for whatever his next mission was. He knew it would be concerning the girl, but the exact details were a complete mystery. Weasel removed himself from the outside area and entered a tent that his fellow Konoha cronies had set up. He removed his mask – along with it, his strictly anbu identity - and changed into his usual ninja attire. He wore a long sleeved dark grey shirt, with netted clothing underneath. His pants were black, and lightly hugged his ankles. His ankles were wrapped in bandages covering whatever skin would have been visible between his ninja grade sandals and pants.

In the privacy of his tent, Itachi Uchiha sat down and pulled the file from his discarded anbu uniform. He carefully looked over his mission orders, and began flipping through the other documents.

He remembered what happened. While he was not on the original investigation or tracking team, he was certainly informed of the disappearance. He remember how poorly his younger brother and their excitable friend took the news. Sheer outrage and uncertainty. The boys and the rest of team 7 were sent on mission after mission and followed whatever lead they could scrape up. They did everything they could to find her, and yet nothing panned out.

Sifting through the pages, Itachi came across a recount of the actual day it happened. It seemed as if the witness had been too distraught to write it down herself, so she was assisted by part of the investigations team.

The paper was signed and dated by the medic, Oyone Jih.

"This is a recount of the events in the village of Chitari.

All information has been verified by Medical Ninja Oyone Jih – witness to this event

I Oyone Jih verify that the account below is accurate to the best of my knowledge. Any false information knowingly provided will result in my suspension until further notice and an investigation into the circumstances to determine suitable punishment."

The mission was supposed to be textbook. A simple trip with two other medical ninjas, to help a small village called Chitari recover from a spread of illness that had swept through the region. With no combat – it was anticipated to be a well-deserved break.

Over 70% percent of the village was infected with this illness - an epidemic of small proportions. Equipped with enough supplies to treat the village three times over, the young ninja were feeling confident.

The team was composed of Sakura Haruno, Migaki Koru and Oyone Jih. Together the three analyzed and isolated the bacteria, created a treatment plan, and trained the medical officials to handle and prevent contagious illness properly. While Sakura oversaw the treatment of those who were most affected by the illness, Migaki treated those who were just starting to become ill or had been ill for a short while. Oyone worked on promoting preventive measures so that the remaining healthy population could stay healthy. The three of them took turns training the staff in general best practices and their individual specialties.

The village was located on the edge of fire country, just five miles from the border of river country. With Sakura as the lead, the mission went by swiftly and with little complications. The team was truly an organized machine. After a month's worth of hard work, they planned on staying just two more days.

That morning Sakura had left to continue training the few medical officials in the small treatment center. They all had their duties to get to. The medics of Chitari were so appreciative of all of the help.

Oyone took the time to show the nurses what herbs could be used if they were ever low on traditional medication. She pointed out individual plants, while the nurses would commit the shape and color to memory, and scribble notes down onto tiny pocket note pads.

After the long day of herb gathering, Oyone was excited to return to her team members and share a meal together. The sun had set an hour ago, and most of her return journey was done in the dark. Even though she was technically a kunoichi, she was trained to never be on the front lines. If someone were to attack – she would be the only one to protect the sweet nurses of Chitari. Seeing the edge of town made Oyone's eyes light up. She bid the girls goodnight and rushed to her temporary home.

She knocked on the door of the cabin her team shared, expecting the other two to be waiting for her return. Not waiting for a response, she opened the door and yelled, "Tadaima."

Oyone noticed the scent first, the air was thick with the galling smell of copper. Her instincts told her to run. She looked up and peered into the hallway before her. The walls were clean and nothing looked out of place. Cautiously she walked down the hallway and turned into the first room. Clutching a kunai in hand she kicked the door open. The door swung in and bounced against the wall. The kitchen was clear.

Edging down the hallway once more she rounded a corner that brought her to the bedroom. She took a deep breathe to steel her nerves, the scent in the air even stronger than before. It had been a long time since she's had to engage in combat. Oyone kicked the door in again, and was ready to strike.

She was met with a sickly calm. While the room was painted red, everything was still. It felt as if time had stopped. It took her a few moments to process the room before her. A futon was pushed on its side as if someone had slid back into it, another was partially folded onto itself, stacked on top of one of their clothing bags. There was an oil lamp on the ground, the glass that surrounded the flame was shattered and sprawled across the room.

Migaki laid in the middle of it all face down in the red puddle below him. "Migaki," Oyone yelled. She quickly looked over the room for traps, and then rushed to his side once it was clear. Biting her lip, her hands turned green and she assessed the situation before her. Still breathing. Heart rate slow, but beating. She could work with this. His was in fairly good condition considering the circumstances.

His injuries were not severe enough to account for all of the blood on the walls and floor.

Oyone worked away slowly knitting together his wounds the best she could. She needed him alive and awake. Migaki stirred and his eyes fluttered open. "Oyone – call for help. We need help," he said. He attempted to sit up straight. Oyone pushed his chest back down so that he was laying once again.

"Stay down. Conserve your energy," she said focusing on his wounds. Oyone worked on a particularly tender area, the last part she would heal before calling for reinforcements. Migaki took a large intake of breath, and Oyone looked up at him and met his eyes. His eyes were always so expressive, and right now all they showed was pain and concern. He quickly looked away, his head now facing the wall.

"Sa-sakura," Migaki stuttered through his labored words. "Sh-she was taken."

Itachi was pulled away from the document when he heard someone call his name. "Uchiha-san," a woman called once more, "She's awake. We're awaiting further instruction." He gathered up the papers and put them back into the folder. He would review the rest of the file later. He performed a quick seal – and the folder poofed into a small scroll. He stashed it away in one of his weapons pockets, and excited the tent. He nodded once at Shizune, and she began to inform him of her condition.

There were a couple anomalies that Shizune couldn't quite place. First was the inability to speak. There was no explainable reason why she couldn't. Second was that if this girl truly was Sakura Haruno – then why did she not recognize her colleagues. There was no head trauma, no trace of drug abuse. The girl was truly identical to Sakura – right down to a tiny birthmark on her back. Further assessment will have to take place once they return to the village. Her DNA and a dental x-ray will be taken. She'll also have to have a debriefing with Ibiki. Hopefully he could trigger something.

"Amnesia – of some sort, although it's difficult to tell," Shizune said, "Something isn't quite right about it." She paused for a moment and considered her words, "She doesn't trust any of us."

"Ah," Itachi replied, "Unfortunately part of that may be my doing. She saw me eliminate the leader of the organization." Shizune frowned and continued walking.

"I'll need to know everything about that night. Did she do anything unusual?"

"She attacked me with chakra aided strength when we were alone. She felt threatened." Itachi recalled the night.

"It could be muscle memory. She didn't know what to do – so her body just acted," Shizune mused aloud, "This really could be her."

The dots were starting to connect for Weasel. Sakura had been in an area where the criminals of HTS were expanding to at the time. She could have been snatched while she was there, and then held onto for the right buyer. The Godaime's apprentice would go for a pretty penny from the right buyer. Having to keep her identity a secret, it made sense that she would be disguised as such when they found her. Had he been a lesser ninja, he may not have detected the slight amount of chakra swirling around her.

Itachi followed Shizune until they reached the girl. She was sitting on a downed tree, near where Shizune had assessed her condition. There was a small medical futon on the ground, with a box of supplies next to it. In the forest behind her, two anbu who had accompanied Shizune here were hidden – observing from afar.


End file.
